Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 25

America

Here's how my job interview for the newspaper went.

"Oh, dear. I don't think so. It'll involve too much walking."

I opened my picture book and showed her all my work. "I've taken all these in the past week. Photography doesn't require that much walking."

She tapped her foot on the ground for what seemed like forever before she said, "Fine. You can do this week and next week. If everything goes okay, you can stay. Any problems, and you'll be gone before you even realize what you did wrong. Got that?"

I nod. In less than three weeks, I would have my tripod. Eventually, I would be able to buy other stuff like a nicer camera and my own laptop to edit everything on. 

Before I got off the phone yesterday, Shawn insisted I send him a picture of me. Actually, he insisted on me sending him multiple pictures, but I told him that wasn't going to happen. I asked him where to send it to and he hesitated. "Uhh, just send it to my old address with a letter explaining that's it's for me. My parents should be here in a couple of days."

I pick up a picture of me from a year ago. A lot has changed. My hair was a lot shorter back then. My face was rounder, too.Now it's kind of sunk in under my cheek bones and my jaw line is more pointed. I didn't realize how sick I looked until now. I move all the pictures from my lap to the carptet and get up to look in the mirror. 

Bags sit under my eyes and my collar bones poke out unnaturally. My hair is a greasy mess since I avoid taking showers because of the fact that it usually takes more than an hour. All I had to eat today was a cup of coffee and a protein bar. I glance over at my clock and notice it's 2:34 a.m. 

This was not healthy. I needed to go see that therapist. I decide I'll tell my mom tomorrow.

Too bad I was lying to myself.

I collapse onto my bed and let my crutches fall to the ground which creates a crash and bang.  "America!" My mom's voice passes through the hall. "You okay?"

I bury my head in my pillow. "Fine, Mom!"

After a few seconds, she yells, "Go to bed."

I was already asleep before she finished what she was saying. 

Shawn

America was starting to sound different when I called her, more tired and less... motivated. I was worried. 

Maybe I was imagining it. She's perfectly fine, I tell myself. You just miss each other.

It had only been three weeks and I was already considering buying a plane ticket to go see her for just a few hours. I needed to make sure she was okay.

I asked her tonight about how she was doing. 

"So, how are you doing with the whole... leg thing."

"Uh, good, I guess." And she changed the subject. "You know, I've been taking these really cool pictures..." 

The more and more I talked to her, the more I got indications that something was wrong. Her voice wasn't as smooth as it used to be and when my parents came, they said they didn't get a picture in the mail from anyone. When I asked her about it, she said she forgot, but I could definitely tell she was lying. What was going on? So I asked her again.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "You've been acting strange."

She paused as if thinking of the right thing to say and then, "Yeah, I've just been tired."

"Oh, okay." What else was I supposed to say? All I wanted was for her to be happy. 

I called the next day. She didn't answer. I called her at least eight times before I gave up. 

I waited until the next day to call again. No answer.

America

My parents found out about Shawn. They were pissed and found some way to twist everything around so me being unhealthy looked like his fault. My God, they took away my phone, too.

"He's just a guy!"

My mom walked around the kitchen and wiped down the table. "He is why you are depressed-"

"First of all, I am not depressed and even if I was, it would be over this stub of a leg I have left, not a boy-"

"You better shut your mouth or I'll take your camera away and you won't get it back for a month!"

I turn around and rake my fingers through my hair before I hobble up the steps. "Jesus Christ, no wonder I'm" air quotes "depressed!"

"We go to the doctor tomorrow!"

"Whatever."

And that was that. I knew Shawn would probably give up on me when I stopped trying to talk to him. A small part of me even believed it was for the best.